Quicksand
by 91FanFicLover63
Summary: Thirteen is sinking quick. Can House help her from her downward spiral? House/Thirteen friendship sorta. One shot. Please R&R Rated T for language


**Quicksand**

**Summary: The more Thirteen struggles, the faster she sinks. Can someone save her?**

**A/N: This is my first House/Thirteen fanfiction. Please be nice with the reviews! Thanks and enjoy!**

Remy looked out the window. It was raining outside. The gray abyss drained all the joy from her eyes. The darkness came quickly that night.

The house phone rang. Remy looked at it for only a moment then threw her wine glass at it, knocking it off the table. It crashed into pieces on the floor and to Remy's pleasure, stopped ringing.

She threw another ecstasy tablet into her mouth and gulped down more wine from a new glass.

She lost a patient. A child. She couldn't do _anything _right.

Maybe she could kill herself before the Huntington's got the best of her. She didn't know how long she had, so she took another swig of wine.

Remy stood up and walked to her bathroom. She stripped her clothes and stepped in the hot shower. She didn't want to clean herself, she wanted to feel something.

She let the hot drops hit her skin and fill her senses. Her hair became heavier with the water invading it. Remy slightly parted her lips and sucked in the steam. She let the droplets hover above her eyelashes, slide down, and hang off the ends.

Remy heard another ring. But this time it was a door bell. She groaned and closed her eyes tightly. She shut off the shower and stepped out.

She pulled a towel off the rack and used it to quickly dry her body. Then she threw on pair of not-very-clean shorts and a tank top with no bra.

She heard the bell ring twice more. She groaned again as she stumbled out of the bathroom and down the hallway.

"Hold on!" Remy yelled. She grabbed a hooded sweatshirt from her couch and threw it over her head.

She pulled her hair back in a sloppy bun and pulled open the door. Her eyes widened when she saw House.

Remy rolled her eyes and rested on the door frame. "What the hell are you doing here, House?"

"I called." House said as he burst through the door. He stepped into her apartment and looked around. "Who died? This place looks so depressing."

"Besides Abby, no one." Remy said, pertaining to the child that had died just days ago.

"You can't save them all." House said as he looked at her.

"You gave me a private case and I fucked it up." Remy grumbled.

"Yea, you did." House replied. Remy rolled her eyes again. "But it's over, there's nothing you can do."

Remy threw herself on the couch by the window and sighed. "I'm sorry, are you here to make me _feel better_?" Remy said sarcastically.

"You don't need to feel better mentally." House said as he grabbed the bottle of wine from the coffee table. He held it up. "Refreshment?"

"Look," Remy said, standing up. "Just please get out. I'm not in the mood to deal with you."

"Why is your hair wet?" House asked curiously.

"I just got out of the shower," Remy scoffed. "You know, before I was rudely interrupted."

"You have any drinks in here that aren't alcoholic?" House asked as he hobbled into the kitchen, completely ignoring her pleas for him to leave.

"Wouldn't count on it." Remy laid down on her couch and closed her eyes.

"Good." House chuckled lightly. Remy could barely hear him because he was already in the kitchen.

House came back momentarily with two waters.

"You found something?" Remy asked curiously when she saw the glasses.

"Yea, I decided you've had a little too much." House said as he scooted next to her on the couch.

"What tipped you off?" Remy asked as she leaned back with her glass of water, sipping cautiously.

"Thirteen, _please. _I'm a genius." House replied in his know-it-all tone. He picked up the tv remote.

Remy rolled her eyes. _Pff genius._ "You don't have to be a genius to notice my bloodshot eyes and _perky_ attitude."

"That's true." House set down his glass after taking a sip. The tv was playing some Nascar race. "What's been happening with you?"

Remy glared at him. "Nothing."

"Come on," House said. "Don't act like I haven't noticed this downward spiral." He looked at the opening to the hallway. "So, do you have a hot coed in your bedroom?"

Remy chuckled slightly. "Do you really think that if I did I would have answered the door in the first place?" 

"True." House replied, watching the tv.

"So, why did you really come here?" Remy asked.

"What do you think the answer is?" House looked at her with his piercing blue eyes.

"I don't have time for mind games, House." Remy looked away from him and stood up. She was surprised when she felt his strong hand grab her arm and pull her back down.

"Talk to me." House said.

"You don't seem like the therapist type." Remy shot back.

"I have many hidden talents." House replied.

"What do you want me to say?" Remy said slightly quiet. "That I'm breaking, that I feel like my life is meaningless?" House just looked at her. "Well I won't. I have nothing to say."

"Okay, then explain this." House said, holding up a bag of ecstasy.

Without stopping to think how he found it, Remy sucked in a breath. "It's not like you have never-"

"Doesn't matter." House cut her off. "Are you trying to kill yourself?"

Remy looked away. She felt tears welding in her eyes as much as she tried to fight them back. "No."

House ignored her. "Are you trying to kill yourself before your disease does?" Remy bit her bottom lip to stop it from quivering.

"You know _nothing_ about me or my problems."

House set the bag down on the table. "I know that you're in quicksand."

Remy's eyes drifted to his then shot back to the wall behind him. "And what do you mean by that?"

"I mean, the more you struggle, the faster you'll sink." House said. "So stop doing this."

"Wow, thank you!" Remy stood up again, this time backing away so she couldn't be pulled back down. "Advice from the addict. You know, you are such a hypocrite."

House leaned back on the couch. "You want to know the reason Abby died?" He said quietly.

Remy looked down at him and turned away, moving towards the window. "_Don't_ connect my behavior to Abby's death."

"But they are connected." House said, staying on the couch.

Remy faced him. House could almost begin to see her eyes make a watery river on the bottom lid. "I did all I could to save her."

"But your mind was somewhere else. I shouldn't have given you the case." House replied, looking at the carpet for a second.

"I know it was my fault!" Remy yelled this time. She looked up and wrapped her arms around herself. "You think I don't know that I did this? I put that family through hell."

House stood up and walked towards the door. He put his hand on the knob and lowered his head. "I'll be back tomorrow morning. If you want to keep your job you'll put your stash on the coffee table."

Thirteen swallowed hard and nodded even though she knew House couldn't see her.

With that, House pushed open the door and hobbled out. The door closed shut and Remy walked up to it, laying her palms flat on the wood.

Remy glanced towards her cold kitchen and started walking into it. She opened a cabinet next the sink and pulled out a ziplock bag.

She took a deep breath and made her way towards her bedroom. She opened her door and saw her messy bed sheets and comforter, two pillows- one on the hardwood floor and one in the middle of the bed- and most importantly, her disheveled bedside table.

Remy kneeled in front of the table and opened the third door. A book of Diagnostic Theory was on top. She opened the book and fingered the orange bottle hidden in the square cut out of the pages.

"One down." Remy sighed, opening the next drawer.


End file.
